The Slayer Returns
by NightWatcher666
Summary: The Darkness is free and Castiel has Dean recruit a powerful ally who has bested evil before, but does she have it in herself to do it again years after giving up the fight?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own Buffy or Supernatural. I will be going very much AU with this story, but some element will remain. Also Season 11 Spoilers!**

 **The Slayer Returns**

 **1**

(December 2007 - Cleveland)

Buffy winced and bit her lip as the glowing hot branding iron scorched the flesh on her outer calf. The pain was an explosion of white hot energy that appeared in back her eyes and caused a scream to try and climb out of her throat; yet compared to the loss of her sister it was simply moderately uncomfortable. The red headed witch Willow finished her chant and dabbed the wound with cool water that sizzled for the first couple dabs. "You're sure you want to do this?" she asked her blonde friend with more than a touch of worry in her voice, "You'll have no way to defend yourself." Buffy nodded solemnly, "It's for the best. I've given everything to being the slayer, and my freaking destiny continues to destroy those around me…. I won't do it anymore, and the powers can go sit on it and rotate." Willow nodded, "If you ever change your mind, you know how to break the spell. I'll never say no to having you back."

Buffy didn't answer; she just stood up and grabbed a duffle bag out of the closet. She took stock of what was going on in her own mind. She was doing it; she was leaving this place that she had built. Leaving the life that took her sister from her. "What will you do?" Willow asked with a voice so thick with concern that it shook Buffy from her thoughts. "I dunno," Buffy admitted with a small smirk and a sad shrug, "But I can't stay here." Without another word between them the blonde packed a bag with a few clothes, some pictures, and some money before heading out the door, and leaving her life and her destiny behind to rot with the memories of loss.

(March 2015 - Texas)

Dean Winchester pulled off the road somewhere in Texas. He wasn't sure how long he had been driving, but he knew it had been long enough. "Who the hell ever heard of Waxahachie, Texas anyway?" Cas had informed him of an ally who might be willing to provide assistance in dealing with the Darkness, but he wasn't convinced that Cas's hero would be on the up and up if they were even real. His eyes closed as he thought about Amara and her promise for them to be together. The thought sickened him, but comforted him as well which was the disturbing side of things. He shook the unwanted thoughts from his head and quickly kicked the door of his Impala open to stand up and stretch. After walking around a bit to clear the conflicting thoughts of Amara from his head he got back in the car and continued driving towards the middle of nowhere Texas town.

Buffy shivered as the walk-in cooler closed behind her. She had been working this bar for seven years and running it for five; yet she still found that the cooler was too cold for her California skin. She turned around to load the last case of beer onto the dolly and came face to face with a man wearing a navy blue suit and trench coat, "AHH!" She screamed as the case fell to the floor, "How the hell did you get in here?" she demanded while doing her best to ignore the cold and wet feeling building up around her feet. She noticed the way her looked at her; his face vacant, but full of more knowledge than she could fathom. That's when it hit her, "What are you?" He almost seemed to chuckle as he considered her, "You are Buffy Summers," he said in a flat gruff voice. "Yeah, why are you here creepy?" He looked at her inquisitively for a moment, "My name is not Creepy; I am Castiel." Buffy smirked, "Fine Castiel, what are you and why are you here?"

Castiel turned his head to the side, "I am an Angel of the Lord," he stated as if it were obvious, "You are broken." Buffy started laughing, "You almost had me for a minute, Angel of the Lord my ass." With a clap of thunder the lights dimmed and Buffy's throat went dry when she caught the sight of massive yet broken shadow wings behind the stranger. "Do you require more proof?" Castiel asked to which Buffy dumbly shook her head. "Good," Castiel replied, "Now, why are you broken? You are Buffy Summers the Slayer, but your energy is compressed." Buffy nodded, "I'm not the slayer anymore." She pulled up the leg of the sweat pants she was wearing to show him the devil's trap tattooed on her calf. "Now I'm just Buffy the bar owner in middle of nowhere Texas."

Castiel regarded this, "This is not normal body decoration. The mark has been applied with a mystical brand. Where did you get one?"

"Nope," Buffy said, "Why are you here?" Castiel returned his burning blue eyes to hers, "We have work for you." Buffy's jaw went so tight that she felt it pop, "After everything that was taken from me…. You have some nerve to ask me for anything!" He looked at her with a cold yet sympathetic expression, "Are you so full of loss that you would doom the planet to your old enemy?" Before she could respond the creaking sound of the large wooden double doors at the front entrance opening distracted them. With the brief sound of ruffling feathers and quickly fading footfalls Buffy found herself standing alone in a still growing puddle of beer when her bouncer walked in. "You ok Boss?" he asked. Buffy looked at the man. Six foot, two hundred fifty pounds of pure biker muscle. His Greying handlebar mustache and beard gave him a rough look, but she knew better. Rarely had she met a more gentle and good soul. "I'm good Walt, just an accident. Hey, do me a favor?" Walt nodded, "Get these into the bar coolers before they go skunky, I'm gunna clean this up and go change." Walt nodded with a friendly smile and in his rough but friendly voice said, "Sure thing."

The sun had already set as Dean pulled into the small motel on the outskirts of town. He got his room and threw his bag on the bed without taking in the state of the room, "Work tomorrow, drink tonight," he said to himself as he shut the door to his motel room. Right down the street he saw it a large 2 story wooden building with a giant neon star on the front "The Lone Star Bar," he chuckled, "Only in Texas." As he approached the door he noticed a line of bikes lined up out front and Skynard wafting across the parking lot. "This is my kind of place," he thought as he stepped through the large doors, "The only thing missing is… nope, there it is." His eyes locked into a blonde tending the bar. She wasn't tall maybe 5'1" in heels, early thirties, but even from this distance he could tell that this girl was in shape. She wore a black tank top that had a red rose on it and hugged every curvy in her supple shape, A black Stetson that very much fit in with the vibe, and the skin tight dark jeans the he found were a nice touch as well. Could he succeed with this one? He didn't know, but he's Dean friggin Winchester and he was sure as hell going to try.

Dean plastered on his most seductively charming smile and walked right up to the bar, "What'll ya have?" asked the perky voice that held no hint of the accent prevalent in these parts . Dean couldn't help but widen his grin as he locked eyes with the smoking hot blonde, "Whiskey, neat," he responded. Before he knew anything she slid the drink in front of him; pulling a few dollars and sitting them on the bar he looked at the gorgeous bartender again, "So, how does a girl as gorgeous as you wind up working in a small town dive like this?" Without missing a beat Buffy looked at the handsome stranger sporting her own smirk, "It helps when you're the owner."

Dean was about to retort with something he thought would be clever when he saw her eyes darken. It was a haunted look that only someone who had seen entirely too much in this world and beyond could pull off, one he saw every time he looked into a damn mirror anymore; one he was sure he wore with every monster that he faced. He noted that she was staring clean through him, and with a look at the large mirror behind the bar he saw the reflection of Castiel standing in the crowd staring at them in the way he did when he wanted something. "Damn it Cas, can't I get one night?" he asked as he spun around only to realize Cas was staring at the bartender and not him.

It took only a second for Buffy to realize that this guy had spoken to the being that watched her. She used the word being, because she was not ready to accept the existence of an angel, and with a glare that used to make vampires run and hide she turned to the stranger, "You know this thing?"

Dean was taken aback and with a chuckle he felt the sudden urge to bash his face onto the bar, "Son of a bitch," looking up he stared into the green, glaring eyes of the blonde and swallowed, "I guess you could call him my guardian angel." She visibly grimaced, "Walt! Watch the bar," she yelled out, "You two follow me." Dean chuckled, "Listen princess, I don't know who you are, but I don't just follow blindly." The blonde replied simply with a look that told him that she wasn't asking. Without a word he got off his barstool and followed her with Castiel in tow.

They followed her through the back and up the stairs to the second level which led to an office. "What the hell?" she demanded, "I tell you no, so you bring hunky here to entice me?"

"Whoa, He didn't bring me here," Dean answered, "I'm working a job, and just who the hell are you babe?" Castiel stepped forward, "She is important in your coming fight. She has faced this enemy before and pushed it back, "Blondie is the powerful ally you sent me to recruit? And here I thought Sam had the worst idea yet when he wanted to talk to Lucifer." Castiel grimaced and looked at the older Winchester, "she is the chosen one, Buffy the Vampire Slayer." Dean stopped cold, he simply stared at the blonde before he broke down laughing, "You mean like that old goofy TV show?" Buffy shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she tried to hide a flash of anger, "I wish you wouldn't bring that up. You don't know how creepy it is that some chronicler of the Powers that Be you've never met told the world your accurate life story." Dean laughed harder, "Oh sweetheart, let me know when you've wound up at a fan convention for it complete with people larping you." Buffy looked at him quizzically, "I don't follow, larping?"

Dean sat down in one of the old wooden chairs in front of the small desk, "The graphic novel series Supernatural. It's the story of my brother and me. It's written by this prophet of the lord named Chuck. Once we were duped by a crazed fangirl into making an appearance at a Supernatural convention and people were in costume pretending to be us, so yes Honey I get it." Castiel nodded, "The Winchester Gospel and the Holy Slayer Chronicles."

"Enough!" Buffy yelled, "First, I can't even process anymore and second, I'm not a slayer anymore. I did my bit for the Powers that Be, and I'm done." Dean stood up, "Cas I think you better listen to her. If she got out don't drag her back in. She doesn't need vamps and demons controlling her existence anymore."

"Dean, you do not understand," Castiel said, "When the mark was removed, the Darkness was released. She knows how to fight it." Buffy put her hands up in a time out gesture, "What mark? And I never fought anything called the Darkness unless..."

The three of them turned at the sound of clapping, "And she gets there." Dean saw that despite her fists being curled up in anger, Buffy was crying while looking at the tall brunette that appeared in the room, "How dare you take that form." Buffy demanded as the words escaped her clenched teeth. The brunette simply jumped up and down and laughed, "But your sister was the perfect choice to upset you. You shoved me back in that miserable hole, but now I'm out bitch. I'm out and your little pipsqueak army is powerless this time. Oh, and I left you a present." She morphed into the form of Amara that Dean was familiar with and gave him a small smile, "Think about my offer Dean; time's running out," she said as she reached out and stroked his cheek before vanishing.

As soon as Amara vanished they all heard the sound of the big wooden doors being broken followed by a huge commotion and several screams. "Either it's an army or one hell of a show." He slipped out of the office and down the stairs. Once he crept out to where he could see he wished he hadn't. He saw blood, body parts and hideous creatures with pointed ears, fangs, and almost white skin. Quickly he scurried back up the stairs and into the office. "What the hell man? There's an army of monsters down there like I've never seen."

"She must have brought the Turok Han," Castiel remarked calmly. "Crap," said Buffy, "I have weapons, but we're better off not fighting if we can." Dean sniffed the air and frowned, "Not a problem, they set the place on fire." Buffy gasped, "We have to get everyone out!"

Dean shook his head, "Nobody left alive to get out. Just us, toots." Buffy rolled her eyes as she opened her desk drawer and pulled out a black knife, "Machetes are in the trunk." With a nod Dean opened it and tossed one to Buffy after taking one for himself, he kicked to door open, "Let's go!" They ran down the stairs and Dean took a flying leap catching the neck of a Turok han straggler with his machete. It wasn't clean, but after a moment he separated its head from its shoulders. Buffy did the same to another, but she found herself unable to cut through the creature's thick skin. As the creature turned its attention to her she did the only thing she could, "DEAN!" She heard him grunt as he fell to ash, "These things suck," he said as he grabbed her waist, "You ok?" Buffy only nodded suddenly feeling very small, weak, and ashamed. She had never felt so useless.

She was shaken from her terrified thought by a loud thunderous crack. Following the sound she looked up she saw the main rafter beam splitting and collapsing from the flames, "Time to go babe," Dean said hurriedly as they bolted out the door. As they caught their breath Buffy sat in the parking lot and watched in shock as the supernatural destroyed yet another piece of her life. "I can't do this anymore," she said quietly, "I tried to stay out of its way and it came for me." Dean looked at her, "What does that mean?"

Buffy smiled sadly as she looked up at the ash and soot covered man who was so good looking it made her eyes hurt, and so broken it made her heart ache for him, "It means that you've recruited your ally."


	2. Chapter 2

2

Once the fire was under control and the commotion allowed, Buffy reluctantly retreated with Dean to his motel room to get some much needed rest after the festivities, and besides it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go. Once inside she saw the shabby drab interior and rolled her eyes, "What no half naked skank on your bed to go with the pay by the hour vibe?" Dean rolled his eyes as he sat down on the bed which groaned and creaked in protest, "Listen sweetheart, this gig isn't exactly high paying so I do with what I can." Buffy regarded this, "You're a hunter," she said as the tumblers fell into place and the locks in her brain clicked open, "That's why you're all tied up in this." Dean nodded slowly, and added with a smirk, "And you're some sort of fabled super hero who fights against demons; could have fooled me back there."

Buffy stood stiff. So stiff she was practically vibrating with anger. Every fiber of her being wanted to slap this man into next week and storm out the door slamming it hard enough to bring this fleabag motel down on his head, but she knew that it was a bad idea. She had nothing now, no job, no home, no friends, he needed her, and she hated every bit of it. Against her will she found herself facing an impossible situation, and was about to do the one thing she swore she never would, but how could she not? She had ignored the suffering of the world for eight years and look where had it gotten her. "Do you have a blow torch?" she asked calmly. Dean's eyes went wide as saucers, "Why?" Buffy found a tear in the lower part of her jeans and widened it so the mystical devils trap tattoo was visible, "This is why I have no power. I bound myself so I could have a normal life. It's become obvious that's not happening. I need the torch to remove the brand and restore my powers."

Dean smirked, "Look I get that your livelihood just went up in smoke, but I think my brother and I will handle it from here on out." This time Buffy rushed over to the bed and attempted to slap him, but he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bed. "I don't think so. An hour ago you wanted nothing to do with it, now you're all gung ho. What gives?" Buffy sat up next to him, "That… thing made it personal." Dean nodded, "I figured you knew the girl whose face she wore. Now I know you did." Buffy began to sob, "She was my little sister. Eight years ago something happened. She gave her life to save mine, and to this day I've tried to be happy, for her." Dean's face dropped into his palms, "Look I get it," he said sympathetically, "I have a younger brother, Sam. Hell I would do anything for him. Family comes first, but you got out. Don't you get it? Getting out means something," he said as caringly as he could. Buffy snorted, "There is no out, and I think you know it." Buffy dropped her head to look down, "When she changed she told you to consider her offer. Who was that woman?"

It was Dean's turn to look uncomfortable, "She is the darkness, Amara is the physical body of it." Buffy's eyes went wide, "The first has a physical form? How?" Dean looked uncomfortable, "Lock to her cage was busted. It's a long story, but the point is my brother and I are trying to gank her, but it's proving tougher than we thought with her being God's sister and all." Buffy nearly fell over, "Sister, God has a sister, and she's the first evil?" Once again Dean nodded slowly, "I won't say we don't need help, but I'm not going to force you out of retirement." Buffy flashed an annoyed glance. "I don't really have a choice. Unless God is going to bail us out I'm needed." Dean felt anger rise up in his chest, "God, that dick who made all this and waved bye? Not likely."

"I beat her once." Buffy said, "In order to do so again I need my powers." Dean looked at her, "I don't know if I'm comfortable with the whole powers thing. Powers usually end in a bad day for me and mine." A knock sounded on the door before it opened and Castiel entered, "I have run off the remaining Turok Han, but time is short." Dean looked at the angel, "She says that she needs her powers." Cas looked her over, "She needs the seal removed. I am aware that you dislike things of darkness, but I can assure you that while her gift is forged in the dark it was forged to aid the light." Dean's face fell, "Fine what do we need?"

"Blow torch," Buffy said again, "And some towels wouldn't hurt." Dean left the room to grab the torch from the trunk of his car while Buffy pulled out the black bladed knife. "I have to warn you," Castiel said to her, "This will be unpleasant." Buffy looked at the angel with a sad smirk, "Along with everything else in my life it seems."

Within a few minutes Dean came back into the room with a small blow torch and a package of clean automotive towels in hand. "Now what?" he asked with an impatient tone. With a sigh, Buffy looked at him, "Can I use a shirt? I'm going to have to take my pants off for this, and would like to be able to stay covered."

"Yeah yeah," Dean grumbled as he found a flannel shirt and tossed it to her, "It's not like I've never seen panties before." To his surprise Buffy chuckled a bit, "Not mine you haven't and you're not gunna with that attitude." Dean's jaw fell open as Buffy triumphantly stepped into the bathroom. Once she heard the door click shut behind her, she immediately removed her torn and dirty jeans. As she stood up she caught her first glance of herself in the mirror. There were cuts, bruises, and of course dirt and ash. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from the tears that wanted to fall. There would be time for that later. She slid Dean's shirt on; briefly stopped to take in the scents of leather, whiskey, and gunpowder. Not an unpleasant smell all things considered.

Dean was sitting at the small table when Buffy emerged. He couldn't help but stare at the bare legs that came from his shirt. He also noticed she looked older without her make up. This was the true face of this woman, a woman who had seen as much as he had if not more. "So, what do we do?" Dean asked. Buffy laid a towel down on the bed and rolled up another one, "Use the blow torch to heat the blade until the edge is red hot. From there use the glowing edge to cut an 'X' through the mark." Dean looked skeptical, "That's it? No chanting or dancing?" Buffy shook her head, "It was rigged so I could remove it myself at a moment's notice."

"Alright," Dean said with a hint of concern, "I'll try to make this quick then." Buffy looked at him seriousness clouding her face, "It's not just a nah nah there I did it. You've got to really cut. Down into the meat." Buffy could tell he was uncomfortable with it but finally he lit the torch and held it to the edge of the blade, "I'm sorry," he said as the edge began to turn orange. "Don't be," she responded giving him a sad, but kind smile, "I chose this." Once the blade was glowing red Buffy put the rolled up a towel, put in her mouth and bit down. Dean scowled as he brought the searing blade down to her leg which began twitching from the heat. He couldn't think of a single thing that was right about this. He didn't even know her, yet he was going to be carving into this girl's leg and listening to the muffled screams of pain based solely on her and Cas' word. Before he could talk himself out of it; he ran the blade deep into her calf. He heard more muffled screams over the sound of sizzling flesh, but ignoring the smell of her burning meat he continued until a straight cut appeared in the tattoo. After a quick reheat with the torch Dean prepared the make the second cut. Once again ignoring the acrid smell of burnt flesh he pressed the blade in and drew the second cut. Once it was completed Buffy took the rag out of her mouth and rasped with a heavy breath, "That sucked major ass."

Dean cooled the knife in the running water of the sink and Buffy stayed on the bed watching the mark slowly disappear while a thick black fluid drained out of the wound and soaked into the towels, "I thought it would be faster." Dean looked at it, "How long you been wearing that thing?"

"Eight years," Buffy said as she got a sharp twisting pain began to grow in her leg. She released a scream as it spun its way up and throughout her body. She honestly believed that this was the worst pain she had ever felt. It felt like someone rubbing sand paper through all of her insides all at once.

Dean leapt to her side as she screamed and started convulsing, "Cas, do something!" Almost instantly Castiel was there placing 2 fingers on her forehead causing her to go still. "I have put her to sleep." Dean settled her into the bed, "Can you heal her?" Castiel shook his head, "She has to come back on her own. Only she can do that, I have only made sure she won't hurt herself."

 _Buffy stared into the oppressive darkness that surrounded her, and felt deafened by the absolute silence around her. "So, not in the motel anymore," she said just to see if she could hear herself. In the distance she saw a small light. "looks like I know where to go." As she walked towards the light she found herself going through a set of familiar doors. Pushing through them she found herself in the Sunnydale High library, "and now I know I'm dreaming." If she in fact didn't know, the sight of the huge table covered in cheese with a balding man next to it told her._

 _Buffy looked around the old library with a sense of foreboding. Something was watching her, a presence she was intimately familiar with, "You might as well show yourself, I felt you a mile off." The room visibly darkened and a familiar voiced echoed in her head, "You abandoned your calling, and now you expect to just continue? You are not worth my presence. You are no longer worthy of my gift." Buffy balled her hands into fists, "How dare you! You speak of destiny and duty, but never stopped to think what it means. I should have died years ago, but I didn't. I changed the lore. I did it and I saved the world, but I'm still punished because I didn't stay dead. You are the one who is not worth my presence, you and your shortsightedness." Buffy watched as Sineya, the first slayer stepped into view clearly angry, "So here's what's going to happen; I'm going back, taking my power with me, and saving the damn world. If you have an issue with it, you can stuff it. I'm the slayer and you're just a damned ghost who's closer to animal than human!" Buffy turned to walk away when she heard a growl and a sickening laugh, "You continue to intrigue me. For all your flaws and mistakes, you continue to be the most worthy. For the coming battle my power is yours." Buffy saw Sineya bare her teeth and take off running towards her. Buffy felt a huge jolt as Sineya connected with her chest before hitting the floor as pain seared from her fingertips, up her arms, and into her chest."_

Dean jumped from the chair he had just been dozing in as Buffy shot straight up in the bed screaming. In one movement he was next to her dabbing her forehead with cool water. In her fit she managed to get an arm against his chest and out of pure instinct pushed him away. Dean didn't think it was so much of a push as he hit the wall across the room. As he made his way back to his feet Buffy seemed to regain her senses and looked at him with a guilty look in her eyes, "Sorry," she said meekly.

Dean looked sympathetically at this girl. It was true he barely knew her, but according to Cas she was important… He hated when people were important, it had a habit of getting them killed; himself included on more than a few occasions. "Don't worry about it," he said dismissively, "So does the ink come with the slayer bit?" Buffy looked at her arms and gasped; her fingernails were now black and there were tattoos swirling and twisting into various symbols of power her arms and centering on her chest, "No," she said quietly as she inspected her arms, "This is new." After staring at her new tattoos for a few minutes and drinking some water she finally worked up the nerve to look at Dean, "How long was I out?" Dean looked at her for what felt like the hundreth time, her blond hair was dirty and matted with ash and sweat, her eyes were still sunken and hard, but now held an edge of power to them, and he also noted that she appeared several years younger. Power must do the body good. "About three and a half days," he admitted, "Guess it took a while to get your mojo back." Buffy nodded, "And then some. I'm gunna go shower." She carefully got out of the best and made her way to the bathroom leaving Dean alone in the room, "Time to check in I guess," he said as he flipped open his phone.

Sam Winchester let his head fall to the table next to his laptop. The case wound up being a simple salt and burn as he thought, so he decided to get some research in on this darkness that he had unwittingly helped escape its prison. Just as he allowed his eyes to closed Dean's ringtone erupted from his phone. With a groan he sat up and grabbed his phone, "Yeah."

" _Sammy_ ," came Dean's unmistakable voice, " _How's the case?_ " Sam smirked, "Simple salt and burn. You catch that vamp?" Dean took a breath, " _And then some, weirdo vamp turned to dust after I cut its head off. And I met someone."_ Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, I don't need to know about your conquests." Sam heard a laugh come through the phone, " _Naw Sam, Someone to help us out. Cas called her the slayer._ "

"Like the myth?" Sam asked.

Buffy stood staring in the mirror as the water heated up. Without her shirt she could see the extent of the changes. The tattoos as Dean had called them didn't stop at her chest. They curled and jutted out in spikes around the outside of her breasts, down her sides, around her hips, and down the outside of her legs ending at her toes which now had gloss black nails like her fingers. They swirled into symbols all over; some she recognized, and some she didn't. She felt power though, more power than she ever felt as a slayer. "Some black lipstick and I would fit right in in the Goth circuit," she mumbled to herself. As the thought about it she felt movement under her skin. She watched the black run up her arms until they looked normal. She turned around to see the ink had formed an intricate cross on her back that incorporated all the various symbols of power into itself. She could still feel her power, but the new surges were muted like they were on a backburner, and it felt much like it used to. "Looks like I can turn the super slayer bit on and off."

She stepped into the steaming water and instantly felt more alive. She felt the ash, sweat, and grime all begin to wash away. While not thrilled about using motel soap and shampoo, they did do the job. After about half an hour she felt the stream grow cold, so she shut the water off and stepped out. She noticed that a small pile of clothes were there and ready for her; and oddly they were sort of in her size. "Normally, I would kill someone for going through my clothes like this, but right Now Dean you're my favorite person. She put on the new undergarments followed by the jeans. They were a little looser than the ones she normally wore, but she doubted Dean spent what she normally did on clothes. Up next was the shirt; a black tank top with the Guns N Roses logo on it, "Someone went shopping at Value-Mart," she commented. Once she was decent she stepped back out into the motel room to find Dean waiting for her, "What happened to the ink?" Buffy showed him her back, "looks like I can hide it." Dean nodded, "Where to sugar?"

"No offense, but I need some clothes since all I have is the clothes you bought me… thanks by the way," Buffy said to Dean who simply nodded. He passed her the room key and laid down for a quick nap while she picked up a few things. She grabbed her wallet out of the destroyed jeans and headed out. She may currently be homeless, but she wasn't going to look like it.

A couple hours later Buffy returned feeling better. She had traded her scuffed and scorched flats for a low heel western boots, had a button up western shirt on over the tank and tied around her midsection, and sported a new black Stetson. She may be Californian, but she could make any style fit. "Dean, "she said trying to rouse him, "I got a call from my insurance company….. WAKE UP!" Dean shot out of the bed pistol raised only to find Buffy giggling. "What?" He asked indignantly.

A/N:I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. getting ready to change positions at work, and wanted this out while I had time. Please Read and Review


	3. Chapter 3

3

Buffy sifted through the wreckage that used to be her life as Dean kept an eye out. She had made it painfully clear that she wouldn't leave until things were squared away. "I've been standing in for you with the cops. Told them you were sick," he said as she looked around then lifted a support beam off a charred chest using only one hand. "Thanks," she muttered, "Not like we don't know what did this." Dean snickered, "Maybe, but if you want that fat little insurance check we can't let them think you did it." Now it was Buffy who smirked as she kicked the top of the chest open. She instantly felt her satisfaction die as she found nothing but slag in the burnt out box, "Damn, all my weapons are gone."

"We can get more weapons," Dean stated. Buffy shrugged, well there goes just about everything I own, I'm homeless unless you count my car, and it looks like I'll need a new career." Dean kicked a warped and half melted license plate that once hung from above the door, "I got an idea about that." Dean straightened as the Insurance agent stepped around a large pile of rubble. "Well Miss Summers that must have been some gang attack."

"Absolute monsters," Dean replied with a cocky smirk. "Quite," the agent answered oblivious to the mocking smirk. Dean in true hunter fashion sized the man up and noticed that he was about five foot nine, balding, and wore thick glasses, a cheap rumpled suit, and most likely has no weapons on him. Well it looks like they did a fair job of destroying your home and business. I'm declaring a total loss. The complete settlement will be deposited into your account in seven to ten business days. Buffy smiled, "Thank you." With a nod he walked back to the small sensible sedan that he had arrived in and Dean went and stood next to the slayer who was leaning on one of the only standing columns that used to make up the front patio. "Where to?" She asked.

Dean looked at her, "You got nowhere to go?" Buffy shrugged as she tilted her black Stetson up to see him, "I have people in Cleveland, but I'm not ready for them to know I'm back in the game yet." Dean nodded, "Hey I get it. When you get out getting back in is a process. I got a place though, clean, plenty of room for you to stay, and space to train." Buffy nodded as Dean looked her up and down. "With the boots and the hat you look like you fit in here, but you don't strike me as a good ole Texas girl."

"I'm actually from California," Buffy said flippantly, "But when I left my old life I went somewhere people wouldn't look for me." Dean nodded, "Middle of nowhere Texas is a very big place; it's easy to get lost, and one adapts to the culture," Buffy smiled up at him. "Enough with the chick flick moment, "Dean said gruffly, "Where's your ride?" Buffy stared down the small block to a hole in the wall mechanic shop, "Jimmy," she shouted loud enough that dean swore he saw a kid bang his head on the underside of the hood of a vintage cherry red Camaro, "My damn car ready yet?"

The kid clamored out of the engine compartment and ran up the block a little ways to meet the pair as they walked, "Almost Mizz Buffy, Hector fixed it up real nice fer ya," he replied with a goofy lopsided smile and a deep Texas twang. Dean looked at the blonde, "What? I have a car and the damn thing shot a thingy out." Jimmy smiled again, "Don't you worry yer pretty head Mizz Buffy, Hector replaced the whole dang engine, ain't nobody gunna ever know you threw a rod. I was just finishing her up as I thought ya might need it after… well you know." Buffy nodded and gave the kid a bright smile, "You're the best Jimmy; tell Hector I'll be by in a little bit to pick it up." The kid ran back to the car and Dean raised an eyebrow at Buffy. "What?" Buffy asked, "He's a good kid; not super bright, but a good kid, and a damn good mechanic." Dean raised his hands in surrender, "I'm not judging, kid seems taken with you."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Whatever, you don't even know me. His dad sold me the bar upon his retirement." Again Dean tried to appear nonjudgmental, "I get it princess. The Camaro yours?" Buffy nodded, "Yeah, first thing I bought when I left Cleveland. My friend sold me on it after she cast the spell that bound my powers." Dean shivered a bit still uncomfortable with powers and magic. "Lunch," he said with a nod towards a nearby diner. Once they stepped in the door he was greeted with classic bleach, grease, and a hint of pie diner smell, some things were just reliable like that. The two slid into the only open booth, and pulled a couple menus out of the pocket attached to the wall. "What can I get ya'll?" asked a bored voice. Buffy looked up and saw Linda, their waitress staring into her note pad which caused memories of the summer after junior year to pop up in her mind.

"Hey Linda," Buffy commented with a bit of forced enthusiasm, "I'll have a double cheeseburger with extra bacon, a large order of chili-cheese fries, chocolate milkshake, and a slice of today's pie." Dean was slack jawed. He just couldn't fathom how such a slip of a girl could eat so much and still look that good. Without thinking he held out 2 fingers, "Make that two," he stammered absentmindedly."

"Sure thing," the waitress Linda stated in a bored tone as she went to place the order. Dean looked at the little blonde slayer, "Where are you going to put all that food?" For her part Buffy chuckled, "Slayers need a lot, and I mean a lot of calories. You should see me after a big fight; once I ate almost a whole thanksgiving dinner by myself." Dean let out a low whistle, any woman who could eat that well and look that good earned a few points powers or not.

Dean sat in amazement watching her eat. She had kept up with him bite for bit and was now finishing the fries that he was too full to eat. "So, what's the plan?" she asked between mouthfuls, "It's not like I have any pressing engagements."

Dean considered what to do for a moment, "You said you don't want to let your people know that you're out of retirement. I get that." Buffy nodded, "I figured that since a real angel decided to recruit me, I would just follow you outta here."

Dean looked the blonde over before releasing a sigh, "I still don't know why you're so gung ho to rush back into this fight. You could take that money and restart your life."

A sad laugh escaped the slayer's lips before she could suppress it, "It's become personal, and I have nothing left to lose. I'll never have peace as long as the First or the Darkness whatever is free." The Hunter scoffed, "Your life, that's something to lose. If you do this there is every possibility that you could die." Buffy threw a couple twenties down on the table and schooled her featured into a well-practiced bland expression, "I've been killed before, a couple times, didn't stick," she said coolly before walking to the door.

Dean sat in the booth and watched her walk out and across the street, "You too?" he asked himself sadly.

After a minute or two, he stepped out into the Texas sun as a heavy Hispanic man handed the keys of the red Camaro to Buffy who promptly handed over what looked like a small stack of bills. After a quick handshake the man turned and went back into his modest shop and the blonde turned to her car. "Hey look, I'm sorry," Dean said as he walked up to her.

Buffy looked at the hunter from under the brim of her hat, "You didn't know, and I'm not exactly comfortable discussing it."

Dean couldn't help but lock eyes with the petite woman, "Hey, I get it. I've made the trip to and from the hereafter and back a few times, and it's not a pleasant thing." Buffy's eyes widened in shock; she didn't often meet people who had come back as it wasn't exactly common. "Anyway," Dean said knocking her from her thoughts, "My next stop is Kansas."

Dean walked towards the motel and Buffy followed him in her car parking right next to the Impala.

He pulled out a map, spread it out on the hood of his baby, and worked out a place to meet the slayer before turning on to their hidden road. Buffy snatched his hand and began inspecting the little white scars on his knuckles. "It's true," she said quietly.

Dean jerked his hand back from the petite blonde when he noticed faint white matching scars on her knuckles, "Why would I lie about that. Clawing my way out of a coffin wasn't exactly my idea of a good time."

Buffy's shoulders sagged, he was right and she understood his feeling on the subject, "It's rare to come back, and even rarer to meet someone else who's done it legitimately." With a small act of will, she pushed her emotions back, "So, back to business. Where are we going?"

Dean circled a cross street on a map near the turn off to the bunker, "Here," Dean stated, "From there I'll lead you down the private road to the garage."

Buffy slip a pair of sunglasses on and took the map, "I'll see you there then." She then got into her car and started the engine and drive off.

"The sixties were a good time for Chevy," Dean muttered to himself as he watched the car disappear.

Sam closed the door to the bunker and walked down to the library. Everything he had felt and found led him to only one outcome. Lucifer had the answers, and Dean would be damned if Sam ever went anywhere near the devil. He set up his laptop to begin scanning for possible leads on his private search and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. Once the coffee was brewing, he pulled out his cell and called his brother.

 _"Sammy_ ," came Dean's reply, " _You reach Home base?_ "

Sam again checked the coffee pot, "Yeah, Just getting ready to read."

" _Yawn,_ " Dead replied, " _By the way; we're having company._ "

"Let me guess," Sam said, "Slayer?"

" _Got it in one Sammy._ "

"I'll look up some lore then," Sam responded, "Talk to you later Dean."

Once the conversation ended Sam poured himself a mug of the rich smelling coffee and headed back to his computer.

Eleven hours… Well eleven hours, three fuel stops, and two separate restroom stops is how long it took Buffy to get to Lebanon. Just after midnight she pulled up to the intersection that Dean had pointed out to her. As she approached the red light she spotted his massive black car parked in front of a bar on the corner. With a small huff she whipped the car into the parking lot. "I swear Dean Winchester; if you're drunk I'll kill you." Once she killed the engine and grabbed her Stetson and disembarked the vehicle.

As she entered the establishment the first thing she notices was the smell. The whole place reeked of stale peanuts and sweat. It looked run down with threadbare carpeting, broken or missing ceiling tiles, and duct tape holding the cushions on the barstools. "My place was so much nicer," she muttered as she looked around locating Dean at the pool table. From the intensity on his opponent's face she knew he was hustling. It was something she had seen a lot in her day. Deciding to have a little fun she plastered on her most vacuous smile and skipped over, "Well howdy ya'll," she saud with as little intelligence as possible, "I'm just wonderin which of you big strong men can help a lady out."

Dean looked up from sinking the eight ball and whistled at the bartender, "Eddie, get a beer for my lady friend."

"Jack and coke!," Buffy shouted out catching a not from the bartender indicating that he had hear her. She turned back to Dean, "I don't do beer. I had a bad experience with it when I was younger."

Dean nodded as he picked up his winnings from the edge of the table, "Better luck next time Charlie," he said in a dismissive tone to his opponent. He then led the blonde to a table as Eddie brought her drink to them.

Buffy took a sip and felt the bite of the whiskey in her throat, "Damn that's a good drink," she muttered.

Dean nodded with a smile, "I know the place ain't exactly pretty, but Eddie here has the best booze and the finest nachos in the area."

"Next time Dean," she said right before draining the small glass of its contents, "Right now I'm tired."

"Right," he responded and finished his beer, "Home we go." He dropped a ten dollar bill of the bas as they walked out to their cars.

Not long after Buffy maneuvered her car into one of the parking spots in what looked to be a car museum. "These all yours?" she asked as she got out. All she got out of Dean was a shrug and him muttering that they had come with the place. He led her through the door and into the main room, "Holy crap," she said, "You live in the Batcave."

Dean chuckled at this, "The supernatural Batcave," he corrected while looking around, "Sammy must have already gone to bed. You'll meet him in the morning I guess." He then showed her to a bedroom and left her to settle in.

 **A/N: Sorry about the wait, I have a bad habit with that, but I hope you enjoyed the next chapter. Soon we'll start cutting into meatier bits. Please read and review.**


	4. Chapter 4

4

(Cleveland: 3 days earlier)

Faith Lehane swore under her breath as her feet slipped out from under her on the wet fire escape causing a now chilly wet spot in the seat of her jeans. She hated this part of the job, but even she had to admit Giles was right. A P.I. license gave her the right to snoop without arousing too much suspicion, even if it meant she had to take more mundane jobs like this.

Three days ago an overweight and balding man whose cheap navy blue suit screamed middle management came into her small office stating that his wife was having an affair. She hated doing these kinds of jobs, but she liked not relying on the council for money and they added to her credibility as an independent investigator.

She pulled her leather jacket a little tighter around her to try and cut out a bit of the Ohio winter when the light of the window she was watching flicked on. With the lights on she could now see into the small sparsely furnished apartment. "Geez even I have better taste in living quarters," she muttered to herself as she got ready to earn her check.

It was only a moment until she saw them enter view. She had fiery red hair in a way that could only be natural, glasses, and ample assets while he was lean, toned and visually reeked of too much time at the gym. Faith started snapping pictures while they kissed feverishly and shed clothing on the way to his small bedroom.

As she continued snapping pictures she was keenly aware that it had been some time since she'd had a good roll in the sack. With a pained grunt she pushed the thought out of her head and took the last few pictures showing them in a position that honestly made her a bit jealous. "Time to go," she said as she willed her cramped knees to straighten and exit the fire escape.

Once she landed in the alley with a splash she took off toward her small dark red pickup truck.

* * *

Mornings were never fun for Faith, but 8 AM sharp she was opening her office and starting a pot of coffee. Once her go juice was bubbling she took the memory stick from her camera and slapped it into the laptop that she kept in her office. She hit the print command and went to pour herself a steaming cup while the computer did its thing.

Not long after a knock came from her door and when opened revealed her middle management client who was looking around with shifty eyes. "I'm…. I'm here for my appointment," he said uncomfortably. Faith looked him up and down before deciding that he was simply nervous. "Sure thing, Come on in."

She plopped into the large executive desk chair that Giles was of course pissed when he discovered that she had swiped it from council headquarters, but instead of yelling at her or calling the cops he had made her work a personal pro bono case to cover the cost of a replacement. Even when rich with the millions of the council's dollars he was still a penny pincher. She picked up the pile of photographs from her printer tray and dropped them onto her desk, "I believe this is what you were looking for Mr. Namith."

He took the pictures and flicked through them, "This isn't what I wanted," he said, "You were supposed to prove she wasn't cheating!" Faith rolled her eyes. This was she hated domestic cases, the person who hired her always got upset.

"Look I get it," she said with a practiced calm "You wanted to believe she was innocent, but unfortunately the facts in the case just don't support that." She watched as his chubby face actually became purple, "I won't pay for this," he said angrily.

Faith was getting bored. She was tired of this argument, "When you hired me you signed a contract for two hundred dollars a day with a two day minimum."

This had the effect of turning his head from purple to red, "I'm a bank manager, I eat contracts for breakfast." Faith took a challenging stance and smirked as his fist swung towards her. With a quick move she grabbed his wrist and pressed his face to the desk applying just enough pressure to make the bones arm creak.

"Now you listen to me lard ass," she said bitterly as she dropped new photographs next to his pinned face, "While following her I made a discovery, not just that she was cheating, but why. I gotta say those are some nice bruises you gave her."

"That's not enough to prove I did anything!" he spat. Faith leaned down close to his ear and whispered, "No it isn't," she said as she twisted his head, "I have you on camera throwing a punch at me. That coupled with these photos, and your refusal to honor a legally binding contract will pretty much sink you. So if I were you I would suck it up, pay me my six hundred dollars, and be on your way before I have to defend myself."

She let go if his arm and stepped back. He was breathing heavy and just for a moment she thought he might have a heart attack and keel over in her office. He took out his wallet and dropped six one-hundred dollar bills on her desk, "I'll get you for this bitch," he huffed and he stormed out the door. Flaith plastered on a goofy fake smile, "Have a nice day!" she yelled.

She picked up the bills, plopped back into her chair and kicked her feet up on the desk, "I should have been a bounty hunter," she mumbled as she added the payment to her books.

It wasn't long before her phone rang and she picked it up without a second thought, "Five by Five investigations, Faith speaking."

 _"Faith, we have a situation," came a posh yet familiar British voice._

Faith frowned, Giles only ever called her with a situation for two reasons, "Ok G-man, is the world ending or do you need dirty work done?"

" _Neither actually. I have an investigation for you."_

Faith's eyebrows perked up, "Is this a case that comes with a council paycheck?"

"Um, y _es actually,"_ Giles responded, " _A couple was killed yesterday in town. The police are writing it off as a home invasion gone wrong, but I want you to verify that."_

Faith felt her brow furrow, "No offense G, but why do we care?"

She heard him sigh on the other end of the line, " _They were hunters Faith. We took care of the hellmouth and they took care of the rest of the area. The council actually kept them on pay roll."_

Understanding dawned on Faith, "I see," she answered, "Send me the details along with directions to the house."

 **"** _And Faith, this is strictly reconnaissance, if you should run into anybody contact me before engaging unless it's an emergency. If we don't keep this under the radar we'll be crawling with hunters by the end of the week."_

"Got it G," she answered, "I'll go check the place out this afternoon."

She hung up the phone still unsure of why Giles was so against hunters. She's hooked up with one a few times, and he wasn't so bad Dean…. What's his name? She shook the lingering memory our and decided to get a jump on her afternoon by getting everything ready.

* * *

It was just after three in the afternoon when Faith pulled up that the house in question. It didn't look any different than any other house. Painted white with gray shutters, flower boxes, hell even a picket fence. "Supernatural Cleavers?" she asked herself as she made her way up the small and slick path. She was thrilled to not have to deal with snow at the moment, but the cold and rain meant ice. Once she got to the glass screen door she noticed two small bullet holes right about stomach height for a male, and a little yellow powder on the porch.

Bending down she dabbed some of the powder with a tissue, and brought it to her nose before turning her head away from the rotten egg smell, "Sulfur?" she asked herself as she slipped the tissue into a pocket. She put on a pair of gloves to not leave prints and slowly opened the glass outer door. Surprisingly the inner door was unlocked and she slipped inside.

First thing she noticed was the broken demon trap at the base of the door as well and a large area of dried blood that went off toward another room. Slowly she followed the blood to a large chair with a bloody handprint reaching under it. Faith lifted the fabric of the chair skirt to reveal a glint of silver underneath the chair.

Quickly she reached under and pulled it out. It looked like some kind of short sword with 3 edges to make a triangular blade that came to what looked to be an incredible sharp point. She did notice some makings in what she could only describe as the cross-guard that she couldn't make out. Also she could feel power, like a stupid amount of power that seemed to be infused into the metal itself. "What the hell are you?" she asked the blade before spinning her head at a rustle from the back of the house.

She stashed the blade in one of the stake holsters that had been added to her jacket and quietly made her way to the back of the house where she say a large man with a blonde ponytail and beard, and wearing a very stylish suit was going through drawers. He wasn't finding what he was looking for but she almost failed to suppress a laugh when his hands came out of the drawer holding a little pink thong. She stepped out of sight as he looked up, sniffed the air, and went back to what he was doing.

She couldn't help but think that this was all very weird and began making her way to the front door and back outside. "Oh come on," she said as she saw a car parked across the driveway trying to block her in. "Oh hell no," she said as she quickly jogged in got into her truck.

Luckily for her they had left enough room that she could back up and turn into the front yard to escape, but as she got onto the street saw several people staring at her... with black eyes. Once she was down the street and away she let out a breath, "Yeah, that's not creepy at all."

She decided not to take any chances and drove straight over to the Watcher's Council U.S. Headquarters that was adapted from an old university campus that Giles had acquired. She parked right infront of the admin building and stormed in to the upper floor. "Um, excuse me Miss, do you have an appointment?" asked a small voice. Faith turned around and glared at the secretary who visibly flinched, "I'm sorry Miss Lehane. I wasn't aware we were expecting you today."

"You weren't," Faith said dismissively, "But I need to see the big man, it's important."

Within five minutes she was rushed into Giles' office and he sat staring at him imspect the sulfur and sword. "This is most unusual, " Giles said looking at the inscription on the blade. "The markings are Enochian."

Faith chuckled, "You read angle scrip?" she asked,

"And what about the sulfur? That's weird."

Giles began cleaning his glasses, "We may be dealing with something that we don't normally see. Demons… true demons from the biblical Hell. It's been said that they leave trace amounts of sulfur behind them." He then inspected the sulfur a little closer, "They tend to stay away from hell mouths as it's usually too noisy for their tastes, but I hear they're not uncommon elsewhere. They have no physical form, just that of black smoke so they have to take hosts."

Faith sat straight up, "How are we supposed to handle that? It's not like we can kill these black eyes sons of bitches without harming their meat suits can we?"

Giles shook his head as he scribbles down something on a piece of paper, "It's an exorcism, It will force the demon back to Hell. Although According to rumor, a great many demons are hard on their hosts. If you can verify the host is already dead I would not hesitate to kill."

Faith nodded with a grim understanding, "Next question is what do we have that will kill them?" Giles picked up the blade and inspected it, "I would assume that the scythe is capable, but as the current head slayer I doubt Kennedy is willing to part with it." He tossed the blade back to Faith, "If this really is the blade of an angel, it stands to reason that it is capable of slaying demons among a great many other things. Why don't you hang onto it," he said with a small smirk, "You'll most likely be on their radar now and you may just need it."

Faith put the blade back into the holster in her jacket, "Thanks G."

As she got up to leave Giles tossed her the key to her old room, "You were told your room would always be here for you. Might I recommend you use it tonight."

Faith nodded as she put the key in her pocket, "Sure I think I'll do that."

* * *

Later that night Faith tossed and turned in her sleep She dreamed of Sunnydale, and the first Slayer. That's when she heard it, a voice that could only have come from one person. "I'm the slayer, and you're just a ghost who's more animal than human!"

Faith sat up with a sharp pain in her chest. She looked around blindly and attempted to catch her breath, "Shit."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please Read and review.**


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